


Dream Therapy

by steelrunner



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Body Modification, Drabble, Dreams and Nightmares, M/M, Mindfuck, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:12:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9150196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelrunner/pseuds/steelrunner
Summary: Don't worry - Nurse Lance will be taking care of you tonight.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A weird little drabble inspired by [ this delicious artwork](http://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/155205457900/using-an-old-idea-id-doodled-on-tsukki-to-bring-u#notes). Badwrong dream sex ahead.

Everything is white.

Shiro doesn't even strain against his bonds, leather tied tight over his ankles, thighs, wrists, and neck - he knows they won't break. Instead he lets his head flop back onto the table, and waits for the wall to crack open with a flood of Galra-purple light. He knows how the dream goes by now.

The wall does crack open, a brief break in the whiteness, and Shiro's heart seizes though neither Haggar nor one of the other Druids steps through the door.

The door slides shut quickly, and Lance - Lance, his Lance - moves forward into the room. Shiro doesn't even have the words to describe how he looks; a pornographic nightmare, some fetishist's wet dream. His only clothes are thigh high stockings and evening gloves of bubblegum pink latex, and a collar that covers him collarbone to jaw. Similar pink patches cover his nipples, mouth banded shut with matching tape. A nurse’s cap is clipped to his hair. Shiny pink and soft brown and _wrong_.

“Lance?” Shiro calls nervously.

Lance doesn’t respond, or even look up. He walks towards the table and then, in one fluid, cat-like movement, heaves himself into it, crawling between Shiro's spread legs. Shiro tries to jerk away from Lance's touch on his bare skin, choking on a cry, but Lance moves onward, unperturbed. He slinks forward on his hands and knees and stops, face-level with Shiro’s hips. 

"L-Lance - " Shiro can hear his voice crack, goosebumps rising on his skin. "What are you doing?"

Slowly, Lance lifts a finger and runs it along the length of Shiro’s cock, lying flaccid against Shiro’s thigh. It’s hard not to flinch back automatically, but no pain follows. 

Lance seems…curious. Slowly, he pushes Shiro’s foreskin down to reveal the head, indigently brushes his thumb across the slit, teasing. His other hand slips lower, rolling Shiro’s balls in his hand, tugging on them ever-so-lightly. To Shiro’s horror, his cock twitches, stiffening under the cool, clinical touch. 

“Please - Lance, stop.” Lance watches him whimper, blue eyes empty of all their spark. “You don’t have to do th-this - !”

Shiro’s words die in his throat when Lance wraps his hand around his cock, pumping it in his slick grip, fast and eager. He arches his back, shuddering as his hips involuntarily rise. He can’t stop it - it feels so horribly good, and he squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to watch, knowing that it’s been so long he won’t need much stimulation to come like this, cheeks flushed with shame.

Against his better judgement, he opens them when Lance’s touch vanishes. Lance is sitting back on his heels, and Shiro suddenly notices that where there should be a cock and balls tucked between his thighs, there’s - nothing. Just another pink bandage, hiding something Shiro doesn't want to see. Sudden horror fills Shiro’s chest.

Lance doesn’t react to his sudden intake of breath. He sits up, and then straddles Shiro’s hips, so his upright cock is just an inch away from that empty place between his legs. There are no scars. There never are. 

Lance peels the patch off slowly, eyes on Shiro as he exposes the Druids' work. His naked cunt is flushed pink like the material that covered it; bare, dripping wet, folds spread open just enough so Shiro can how obscenely tight it's going to feel, stretched around him.

_We know what you love._

Shiro shouts as Lance sinks down on his cock, throwing his head back as if he really enjoys the thick press of Shiro's cock as it invades him. It's a hot, enveloping softness like nothing Shiro's ever felt, drops of slick rolling down his cock as Lance bucks his hips.

“L- Lance - Lance, wake up, stop this - "

_We know what you want._

Lance braces his hands against Shiro's chest, warm latex sliding, and slams himself down to the hilt, glazed eyes rolling back in his head. Before long, he's bouncing on Shiro's cock like a fucking porn star, their hips slapping together, and Shiro can't stop it, can't even will his traitorous cock to go soft. The pleasure is being pulled out of him by hooks, tugged every time Lance grinds down on him or spreads his thighs so Shiro can get a good look at his cock being swallowed up by that tight heat. He doesn't want to like it. He _doesn’t_.

“Lance - god, please - !”

_We can give you everything. Every pleasure imaginable, everything you’re too cowardly to pursue._

Lance jerks in sudden ecstasy, unseeing eyes going wide; he clamps down on Shiro’s cock, almost milking him as his muscles convulse. It’s too much, too fast, and Shiro can only buck wildly as his orgasm comes dangerously near, only held off by the barest scrap of his will. Lance squeezes around him, circling his hips, and Shiro thrusts up unconsciously, uncontrollably. 

He’ll wake up soon. He has too.

_All you have to do…is give in._


End file.
